


I'll give you the beast years

by spaceaunt



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Alternate Universe - High School, Anxiety Disorder, Beach Holidays, Depressed Lance (Voltron), Drunken Confessions, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)-centric, Lance (Voltron) Has Panic Attacks, Lance (Voltron) Has an Eating Disorder, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed, Underage Drinking, haven't planned any smut but if you beg..., i love all my babies but Lance and Keith have some issues to work through, very strong trigger warnign for EDs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:27:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24946117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceaunt/pseuds/spaceaunt
Summary: The whole gang needs a break so Allura has a genius idea: let's go on a vacation, to the beach, in the middle of winter. Naturally, nothing goes as planned.Or the one where Allura takes everyone to the beach for two weeks and Lance and Keith find out a lot about each other.
Relationships: Allura/Shiro (Voltron), Hunk & Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith/Lance (Voltron), but very minor - Relationship
Comments: 3
Kudos: 70





	1. the wheels on the bus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh sweet bus ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys go listen to best years by 5sos because it's the title of the fic and super good, thanks.
> 
> Also this chapter (and the whole work really) contains really explicit descriptions of an eating disorder, so please be careful. If you'd like to know when it begins It's in the bold statement that says trigger warning. Scroll down to the notes at the end to find out what happened if you do skip it.

Once upon a not distant at all time, there were four teenagers who met under questionable circumstances. See, the rather curious group all had the same brilliant idea of playing spy, their main target two people who tied them all together, and through their long adventure to discover the galaxy of secrets between the two elements, they shared a bond much stronger than your average teenager. That was only natural as, by fate's wicked wishes or purely the universe's coincidences, Keith, Lance, Hunk and Pidge shared a secret: they all walked into their astronomy teacher and the school's dance teacher on the most inopportune of times; the many wonders of high school!

Naturally, with a secret this big the fantastic four couldn't be kept apart by the school's staff for the remainder of the miserable-but-made-better secondary education of the four. Initially, you might think they wouldn't fit well together; the school's heartthrob, an emo lonely kid, a computer genius chef and a computer genius feisty tiny girl (a year younger than the lot of them), what could this possibly result in? 

The eighteenth of February of the gang's freshman year marked for them the beginning of Institute Altea's most infamous group, all because certain people couldn't keep their hand to themselves. Regardless of what brought them together, the friends found in each other a comforting dynamic, almost like a family, they even named themselves Voltron (per Lance's insistence, of course; he said "every iconic friend group has a name! Look at Grease!" to which Keith responded "The T-Birds weren't nice people Lance! They were basically a gang!" but gave in anyway).

Now Lance is a great guy, probably the most selfless person anyone could ever meet, but the school sees him as this pretty latin boy with a too wide flirty smile, so he gets the fame of 'leading' the group; Hunk has the biggest heart anyone has ever had, both in (literal and metaphorical senses), and he doesn't ever get tired of baking for them, he's also the designated driver, always; Pidge is a year younger than the rest, but smarter than any of them by a huge huge long shot and funny when she's not holding precious blackmail information; Keith, ever the little emo, has inarguably the best music taste and skills and despite being closed off he has been made official listener, funny how things turn out. Then there's Shiro and Allura, the famous teachers who were the catalyzer for the friendship, who somewhere along the way were pulled in as the proud parents of the lot. 

Naturally, eventually, high school got stressing, mental healths were decaying and the gang was facing a great need of a break! And so, a break they got.

Allura proposed, on the first of January, a de-stressing detoxing trip to her beach house somewhere on the east coast. Well, it's not exactly her house, it's her uncle Coran's place, but he said she was more than happy to stay there for a while and bring as many friends as she wanted to, granted they had a place to sleep in that wasn't the cold floor. On saturday the third of January, six rather interesting ordinary people hopped on a bus, two weeks of uninterrupted relaxation ahead, with bags too big and smiles too wide for the winter spent on the beach.

"Lance, what the actual fuck are you bringing that requires a suit case this big?" Pidge exclaimed, quite aggravated by the size of Lance's baggage, almost her size. See, Pidge is a minimalist, she packs essentials and essentials only, while Lance is quite extravagant, meaning his bag has about every minor detail that could possibly be thought of and extra. But mostly he had a lot of Hawaiian shirts and skinny jeans.

"Leave him alone, Pidge. You know Mr. Barbie Wardrobe brought at least half of his sunglasses collection." Keith half teased while simultaneously defending his friend, not very passionately but still a defense. Lance thinks Keith would be the worst lawyer in existence.

"You love my sunglasses! Plus Hunk's bag is almost as big as mine! Plus Keith brought like five thousand instruments with him-" "only two" Keith interrupts "- And Allura has two bags! Why do I get shit for it?"

"Don't worry, bud, we love you regardless of your baggage size." Shiro slaps his hand on Lance's shoulder in that caring family kind of way that is only half hearted, barely paying attention, while they settle in their respective seats,

Shiro and Allura sit together, of course, on the seats at the very front of the bus, it seems impossible to separate them at this point. Hunk and Pidge took the seat towards the middle of the bus, with a computer between them open on a game they argued about most of the way there. Lance and Keith took seats at the very back, Lance taking the corridor seat after some pleading, despite Keith wanting the window seat anyway, all in friendly rivalry.

"Keith, buddy, my bestest of friends, do you mind sharing your emo music with me?"

"Lance, if you don't like my music then just listen to your own!"

"My phone died! Be a little kinder, Mullet!" Lance starts raising his voice above the polite tone you're supposed to use when in the presence of other people.

"That sounds like a you problem to me! And stop calling me Mullet, it's not a mullet!" Keith raises his tone to an equally exasperated one, people on the bus now turning to look at the bickering pair. The eight hours-long journey hasn't even started and the two already managed to cause some ruckus. 

The blue eyed boy looks around him and meets staring eyes with a glower.

"C'mon Keith, please." Lance lowers his voice again, now looking small in his seat. Reluctantly, Keith reaches into his bag and pulls out his phone and a pair of earbuds, taking the right one for himself and letting Lance use the left one. "Thanks." He whispers.

"Complain about a song and I'm taking it back." 

"As long as you don't play your emo songs I won't!" Keith glares at him, phone in hand while he chooses what they'll listen to. Then he smirks and immediately after Lance hears a very strong and recognizable G note.

"You're a lost cause!" But to that Keith just laughs.

"Sleep lance, you look like you need it." Truthfully, Lance had been rather anxious for the much needed vacation, which unfortunately meant he was kept from yet another full night of rest. The boy couldn’t even remember the last time he slept eight hours. 

Not long after, the bus driver announced their departure, at exactly 5:25am of that Saturday morning, the eight wheels of the travel bus were working on getting roughly thirty tired passengers to the Outforte Point stop.

Tempted by the offer, Lance reached into his own bag for the snacks he packed on the previous night, just a bag of dehydrated apples, because he knew Keith liked them, and gave the bag to his seatmate, who didn’t question the gesture. Lance zipped his hoodie up and closed his eyes, head resting on the raised edge of the seat, hoping to get some sleep he didn’t get that night.

He looked peaceful like that, free of worries like that, with his eyes closed and the slow rise and fall of his chest. He wasn’t asleep yet, but just resting his heavy eyelids felt like heaven.

“Lance, your neck is gonna get cramps.” 

“Make up your mind, Keith. You were the one who told me to sleep.”

“Yeah but I didn’t mean to contort your neck like the exorcist!”

“But what do you suggest then? I don’t have a pillow!”

“Fine, then get cramps!” But still Keith scoots closer to Lance, shoulder covered by the hood of his jacket. Who’s Lance to decline the offer right?

They both fall asleep listening to king princess.

  
  
  


“Lance, wake up.” Keith shakes his sleeping friend awake despite how much it pained him to, he looked so at peace with himself and the world. “Lance, we stopped, let’s go get some food, yeah?” Lance tried to shrug the heavy hand off his head, but only managed to mess up his hair (not that it’d been very tidy before that).

**trigger warning right here**

“I’m not hungry, Keith. I wanna stay.” Lance was, in fact, very hungry, but he didn’t want to eat anything. He hadn’t in so long he wasn’t even sure he could anymore.

“Then we’ll get you some tea, okay?” Keith knew, he was the only one of his friends that knew about Lance and his… habits. Not by the younger boy’s will, it was merely an accident. “You can’t go eight hours on an empty stomach. Please?” Needless to say, he became very protective of his friend after that, it brought them a lot closer (again, not because of Lance).

He gives in eventually, droopy eyelids barely open, hand in hand with the older boy, both one of the last remaining people on the bus, apart from a few sleeping passengers.

“Keith, I really don’t feel like eating anything, though.”

“I know, but you should.” They sit down at a table in the small convenience store that the bus stop offers. Hunk and Pidge were looking at the wall of electronics and talking about how they could probably upgrade them. They end up getting a power bank in each color available.

Allura is busy chatting to the cashier all about different types of lattes, while Shiro sips his plain coffee uninterested in the friendly banter. He looks over to the sitting pair, unaware of the younger boy’s struggles and how much his friend’s heart breaks for him. It’s no secret to Shiro that Keith has a big fat crush on Lance, has had since they met almost three years ago, though he would never admit to it. 

“I’m gonna get an omelette, do you want anything? Coffee, tea, maybe some food?” Keith, hand still intertwined with Lance’s, asks in the lowest and sweetest of tones he had ever used with anybody. He’s not a very social person, he’s rude and bluntly honest, cold towards most people too, frankly he really lacks the skills, but when it came to Lance, who he had learned to call his best friend, people skills were suddenly all there was.

“A tea sounds good.” But it didn’t sound good enough to Keith.

“Lance, you gotta have something else. Please” He’s still using the same sweet and low tone as before, because it’s a request, not an order.

“It’s not that easy and you know it, Keith.” Lance, on the other hand, was not being half as gentle, low voice cutting through his friend’s pride.

“I know.” He does. “How about I bring over two forks and we share the omelette, it’s just two eggs and I can ask for it to be cheese free, how does that sound?”

“But it’s your food, Keith, you need to eat it. You love cheese!”

“Yeah, so do you, and I don’t mind having it with no cheese, it’s healthier anyway.” So he leaves without even giving Lance a chance to respond, he couldn’t possibly bear to see him deny himself food yet again. His blue bright eyes were empty now, and his tan skin looked so pale, hair so bland compared to its previous shine and charm. But still he couldn’t help but think how pretty Lance looked just sitting there, hair a little messy, resting his face in one hand and eyelids almost entirely closed. 

He asks for an omelette, no cheese, two forks, a strawberry milkshake and unsweetened iced tea, because he knows that despite his own want to take a good tasting beverage, Lance would never accept anything with sugar in it.

His milkshake is heavenly, as strawberry milkshakes usually are, perfectly sweet and cold. He was never a fan of hot drinks.

“Pidge, we all know the superior snack is cheetos, pringles don’t even compare!” Hunk, who has now joined the table, and Pidge, who is still standing, probably to try to look more menacing, are having a passionate argument about snacks. These two can switch topics faster than anyone could say next.

Keith drops both the forks on the table, taking his spot next to Lance, in a clear signal that he is disregarding any of his friend’s wishes to not have a single bite of substantial food. He wants to scream at him that it doesn’t matter what he does, he won’t eat it, he doesn’t want to.

“Lance, just a bite. Just one. Please.” It’s nothing more than a whisper, there’s a very comforting hand on his back, one that can almost feel every rib poking through. Lance loves the feeling, Keith has to keep himself from crying about it.

“No, thanks.”

So Keith does what he thinks is the only way he’ll ever get him to eat something.

“It’s even better than Hunk’s.” There’s a collective gasp at the statement, even from Lance himself who has never tasted food so good as the one Hunk makes.

“Blasphemy!” Hunk shouts. His food is incomparable! “Are you joking Keith?”

“No, it’s that good. I swear it is.”

“Pidge, taste it, I have to know if it’s true!” Hunk, eyes wet with tears, clinging to Pidge’s arm, pleads. Keith almost feels bad but he knows it will sort itself out because frankly it doesn’t even begin to compare.

“Uh, no. I had an entire round of appetizers yesterday just so you could test which ones to cook for the trip, I’m excused from taste testing for the next year!”

“Lance, please, taste it! My omelettes are unbeatable!”

“Hunk, buddy, I’m not feeling that great, I think it’s not the best idea. Plus I’m biased.” But his resolve is crumbling. He can never say no to Hunk.

“Please! I need to know and I’m super-biased!”

There’s a long sigh, a look down under the table, and then with a shaky hand Lance finally grips the fork, maybe a little too tightly. “Fine.” So he takes the smallest bite known to mankind on the fork and calls it tasting. “It’s definitely not better. Happy?”

“But how can you know when you took that tiny little bite? C’mon Lance, it’s better!” He’s lying, it’s not better.

“Fine!” so Lance does have a considerably larger piece. “It’s not better at all! Keith what are you on?” But then he realizes, fork mid air with another piece of the omelette that Keith just wanted him to eat something. Was it really getting that bad?

“No, just stating an opinion.” Completely false. He doesn’t even finish the entire thing.

**trigger warning ends (it's long I know. I'm projecting.)**

They all get back on the bus after a bathroom break, only a fifteen minute stop but with time for so much to happen, and for the remaining three hours of the ride, Hunk and Pidge continue to argue over video games, Allura and Shiro watch tv shows they don’t even enjoy, and Lance falls asleep on keith’s shoulder again, no music this time, hand in hand with the older boy. It’s been a long time since he’s had such a good nap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so if you skipped it: they stop at a roadside convenience store and Keith tries to convince Lance to eat something and kinda succeds. It's mostly not what I would consider triggering but you never know, so please be careful :)   
> thank you so much for reading the first chapter, I'll try to write the second one as fast as I possibly can. This one was hard because I know exactly what I want to ride for the trip but the whole getting there part was hell, I hate starting things!


	2. cause when you look like that, I've never ever wanted to be so bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> only fools fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the troye sivan references in this are wilding. Bit shorter than last chapter but I thought it was cute :)

“Alright, everyone. Let’s go settle into our rooms!” Allura, with a less than optimistic smile, says to the group.

To say arriving at her uncle’s place was a surprise is an understatement. The place is massive, on top of a cliff, infinite edge pool overlooking the ocean and all, but it looks as though the place hasn’t been lived in for the past century.

Her uncle also wasn’t any better, strange looking fella, orange hair and cartoonish mustache. He was also freakishly tall.

“Let’s have a look at the rooms first to make sure everyone gets something fair.” Shiro, ever the wise, suggests. Probably with his pointed interest of sharing with Allura in mind.

Despite the size of the property, there aren’t a lot of rooms. Four rooms, three with double beds and a smaller one with a bunk bed, probably for kids when someone still lived in the house. 

“I WANT THE TOP BUNK!” Before anyone could even think of getting settled, Pidge was throwing her backpack on the bare mattress, not even using the stairs to climb up to the top.

Shiro and Allura slip out of the kids room, eyes set on the room with a balcony, but Lance was much faster than the two by a long shot and had also had his eyes on the specific accommodation. 

“Uh, I don’t think so, no.” It’s what he says to the two adults when they enter to find the boy sprawled on the bed, starfish-style, massive suitcase abandoned by the door.

“How did you even get here so fast?” Shiro asks him, very disappointed that he didn’t manage to get his wishes.

“Well, for one I’m faster than you. And I paid attention! There’s a shortcut through the bathroom.” His matter of fact smug smirk made Shiro want to throw him out the window. He was absolutely not faster than Shiro!

“Too bad because I saw it first!” He fires back, his competitive side brought out and all rational thought abandoned. Poor Allura just watched from the door unknowing of what to do.

“And then you call me the child!” Keith, who is now leaning against the bathroom threshold, throws his suitcase to the corner of the room. “Hunk wanted the bottom bunk so we’re sharing.”

“You’re sharing the other room. Allura is the whole reason we’re all here.” Shiro insists, arm coming to rest around his girlfriend’s shoulder.

“Actually, I don’t mind. The other one is bigger and has a bathtub in the bathroom!” She has always preferred the bigger room, ever since she was a child and her dad stayed there.

So it’s settled, they all are busy occupying their respective rooms, finding bed sheets and covers, pillows and pillow cases, stowing all their clothes in their closets, racing against the clock after an announcement from Coran, Allura’s uncle, that he wanted to head to town and eat at a nice place.

“I get the right half and you get the left one, Lance. It’s not that hard!”

“Easy for you to say, Mr. I own three band shirts!”

“I’ll let you know that I brought a bunch of button ups too!” 

“Oh yeah, where?”

So Keith points to his impressively small collection of three black button up shirts, one plain, one short sleeved oversized but still plain, and a floral one. A floral one. Lance’s jaw couldn’t have dropped further if he wanted to.

“What were you promised in return for bringing such a beauty? Why do you even own it?” He’s in love. With the shirt, definitely with the shirt.

“Shiro wanted me to dress more beach-like, so he made me buy these tops.” Keith shrugs, hands in his pockets and feeling extremely self conscious. He liked the shirt, he did, but blue wasn’t his colour and the blue flowers were just too much for his minimalism. “You can have it if you like it so much, it’d suit you a lot better anyway.” He didn’t mean to say the last part out loud.

“Bullshit! This would look awesome on you!” He holds the piece of cloth up like he’s testing it on Keith’s figure. “Though maybe blue isn’t your colour. But it wouldn’t fit me.”

“What, you think you’re too tall for my clothes?”

“I’ll have you know, Mullet, that I’m six feet tall and you’re a midget. It won’t fit me”

“I’m 5’10! It fits you!”

“Does not.”

“Does too!”

“NO!”

“YES!”

“JUST TRY IT ON THEN!”

“FINE I WILL!” So Lance takes off his hoodie and his t-shirt, without even thinking his actions would cause his friend’s heart to stop for a couple of seconds. Lance is beautiful, his skin is beautiful, his body is amazing, though the product of a very unhealthy addiction, and the fact that he doesn’t even know it is appalling to Keith.

He isn’t careful about unbuttoning the clothing, nor when he’s slipping his arms through the designated holes and looking up with a sigh, of sadness, of disappointment, of content?

“See, told you, it looks horrible on me.”

Keith couldn’t possibly bear it, all the emotion he’s going through at the moment. Never has he seen Lance look so good. Not when he wore a tux to prom last year, though that may have had something to do with the fact that he had a corset on his wrist and a tie that matched a girl named Nyma’s lilac dress instead of the raven haired boy’s own golden tie.

“Are you kidding? Lance, it looks good on you. Look in the mirror.”

“You’re lying to make me feel better. We’ve been over this, dude! I don’t need you to do that! I’m fine.”

“Uh, no, you’re not fine. And I’m not lying, go look in the damn mirror and see for yourself.”

So he does, slow and tentative steps towards the big mirror in the bathroom that shows him exactly what he suspected, he didn’t look good in it. It highlighted all his imperfections.

“You were lying, hooray.” His tone is despondent, sombre. 

“I swear to god, Lance, if I could lend you my eyes so you could see how absolutely stunning you look, I would. But that is just not possible so go get your fine ass in some decent pants so we can go out!”

There’s an awkward pause following Keith’s sudden outburst. His heart is pounding fastly with the realization of the words that just came out of his mouth. He hopes Lance’s heart is beating as erratically as his, that his light blush means the same it means to Keith, whose own blushing cheeks are much more scarlet than Lance’s.

“Okay.” Lance is the one to break the silence, thank god for his dark skin that doesn’t exactly show the extent of his blush. “But I won’t let you wear one of your My Chemical Romance t-shirts.”

Keith is still frozen in his spot, violet gray eyes darker than usual. Lance’s eyes didn’t look much different.

“Here, this one has a dragon and everything.” He’s holding one of his (many) hawaiian shirts, this one is dark green, almost black, and has a red dragon starting on the back and wrapping around to the front. Lance is sure Keith would look good in it, but what doesn’t he suit. “Wear it with jeans.” And then Lance dashes to the bathroom, his own pants in hand.

The jeans Keith picks have holes in the knees, they’re a strong shade of black, snug fitting. Coastal towns aren’t usually cold so he doesn’t take a coat with him.

“Hey, what’s taking you so long?” Hunk pokes his head in the room, Keith is grabbing his necklace (he insists on calling it chain but Lance always calls it a necklace because of the thinness and the tiny cross on the end of it. It’s upside down), his wallet and phone, ready to leave. “Did you two forget about time and start making out again?” Keith turns a shade of tomato Hunk never thought possible.

“Again?”

“That never happened Hunk! Stop writing fanfiction in your head!” Lance walks out of the bathroom dressed and seemingly unaffected, in the prettiest pair of wide leg pants anyone had ever seen, plain black, no decorations, but still so well used by him, with _Keith’s_ damn shirt tucked in.

“Lance! I like your outfit.”

“Thanks, buddy! It’s Keith’s shirt, can you believe it?” Hunk looks as surprised as he’d been minutes before.

“Anyways, what took you two so long? We’re leaving in five.”

“Did you not hear all the shouting from one room over?”

“No, the walls in this place are thick! I tried shouting at you before I came here but I guess you can’t listen.” Interesting discovery, not sure why it would be helpful.

“I’ll be right out, I need to get shoes.” Lance walks over to his half unpacked suitcase where he had a total of five different shoes to choose from.

Hunk takes it as his cue to leave, leaving Keith to walk to the balcony while Lance ponders his extremely difficult choice.

The sun is setting, a purple hue forming beyond the ocean, sun long gone to the other side of the house. The sound of the crashing waves 150 feet below his feet is comforting, yet scary. Nothing like the desert he came from, nothing like the Garrison Dorm back at Altea. 

“It’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen, isn’t it?” Lance whispers by his side, blue eyes trained on the ocean, not attempting to hide his passion for what he once could have anytime he wanted.

“Not quite.” Keith whispers back. Lance tugs on his necklace (chain) but his eyes never leave the horizon, even when tan hands accidentally brush across his collarbone.

“You need a new necklace. This one’s breaking.” Then he leaves, nut the ghost of his touch lingers for the longest ten seconds of Keith’s life as he lets his brain catch up to his heart so he can leave without feeling like he’s gonna pass out from euphoria. Pure euphoria. And he couldn't get enough of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading this mess, hope you enjoyed it yada yada yada. Just here to inform you that if you aren't signed in you can still leave kudos as a guest so please, give me the kudos. The amount of time that it took me to figure that out is embarassing, I swear! Also comment something nice, or mean who know, maybe you hated it. Make your hate known :)


	3. the beachwood cafe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said new chapter tomorrow and got around to finishing a shitty chapter three weeks later. IM SORRY, I'M STRUGGLING. Also, light trigger warning for some possibly triggering topics such as the very light alluding to Lance's ED, food and mentioned anger issues. This was supposed to end with fluffy cuddling but oh well, I'm sleepy hungry and projecting.

The town is more like a village straight out of a book. Bricks line the streets instead of pavement, no cars are allowed in the town centre, there are fairy lights strung across the tiny roads entrances, shops and stands line the sidewalks, selling all types of pointless pretty crafts, benches everywhere, people snacking on a variety of foods, dressed in many different ways.

The group split to go look at their respective interests: jewelry, paintings, sculptures, Keith even found some knives carved with symbols at the handles. The thousand different smells mixing made the environment extremely disorienting, maybe that was what made the experience sort of ethereal.

Lance was looking at handmade bracelets with colorful beads, the girl selling them about his age, kind and warm, kept a smile on her face as she explained the products and answered all of his questions.

“I’m Lance, by the way.” He tells her while she shows him how to tie the band around his wrist. The contrast of the light strings against his tan skin suited him well, but the three blueish marble beads were the true beauties. 

“We should go somewhere to get dinner.” Hunk approaches him in his spot, looking at the strings and beads displayed.

“Um, sure. I just wanna buy some of these.” Lance now has a new one in hand, it’s the same design but the band is black. “Maybe I should get a necklace too.” Most of those had bigger stones at the end, but there were a couple ones made of a pretty shiny material, soft seaming and a rose gold color. 

“Do you want to see some for yourself?” The girl helping Lance, a tall, short haired girl wearing big hoops, points to the wide range of designs they had, all simple and handcrafted but very pretty. She’s very pretty too.

Hunk is very entertained by the local’s way of speaking, the history behind all of the crafts as well as the individual stories behind each piece.

Slowly, the rest of the group approaches their spot, Pidge first, with a handful of tiny fruits, then Shiro, surprisingly alone, Allura with Coran, and lastly Keith with a new knife.

“Why the hell did you buy a knife?” Lance asks, wrist adorned by seven different bracelets now.

“Well, why not!” Keith crosses his arms, face instantly morphing into a scowl. “Why’d you buy four thousand bracelets?” He retorts.

“‘Cause I wanted to! Plus, bracelets are a normal souvenir, knives aren’t.” The group is ages ahead of them, tired of their pointless bickering, when they finally realize they were left behind. “Shit, where did they go?”

“Fuck if I know!”

They fall into a comfortable silence, walking down the street the complete opposite way their friends had gone, no specific destination in mind except the very pressing and urgent matter of hunger.

“Do you think they have churros around here?” Keith asks, hands shoved in his pockets, the night air getting a bit chilly for a desert boy. Not that Lance dealt with cold much better, he did grow up on the beach.

“Out of everything, churros?”

“Why not churros?”

“No, churros are great but I just didn’t think you’d want churros!”

Keith deadpans at his friend, possibly best friend, who he has seen almost everyday for the past three years. “I eat churros for lunch almost everyday.”

“Doesn’t mean you need to have them here, but if that’s what you want be my guest.”

“I will! Thank you!” Keith takes a protective step away and in defiant response Lance takes two closer, adding a light shoulder bump in.

“What do you want for dinner? And don’t say nothing cause they stopped selling that years ago.”

“They could open an exception for me! I’m special!” Lance says, looking slightly down to face his friend, eyes sparkling playfully. He didn’t mean it of course.

“Yeah, Lance, you are very special.” It’s quiet and almost whispered, most likely lost to the worldly noises around them had they not been less than five inches apart.

“Fruit.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I like strawberries. And mango. Maybe a fruit salad would be nice.” He says it so shyly it hurts to hear and once again Keith wishes he could take all of his friend’s struggles and burn them, rip them up and then run them over with a car, replace it with love and affection. It’s overly mushy and honestly quite out of character for Keith, but he’d rather do all that and be with Lance than continue to hide all that he feels. He has issues too, he needs to talk about them too, and unlike his pushy friend, Lance has never pressured something out of Keith, he knows that Keith will eventually open up like he did with everyone else, and maybe he’s ready to talk about them now. 

It feels kind of magical feeling okay for a couple of minutes, feeling enough and like you can do anything you want without judging yourself too much. Lance likes the feeling right now. He likes the proximity, the tiny sporadic bursts of energy from Keith's wrist being too close to his own, how his pants brush against his jeans every now and again. It’s comforting, familiar and warm, and yet so adventurous, undiscovered and fantastical. He wishes nothing but to freeze this moment forever.

“Oh, Lance, look!” He’s pointing at a cute beach side cafe, completely open front, instead of windows and doors it had shell and bead curtains, a second floor and completely themed interior. The whole place had a very tropical feel to it. “We should go in.”

“But what about the others?” He has no time to question, his hand (or rather his fingers) is snatched into a tentative strong hold, pulling him immediately into the cute establishment.

They get a table on the second floor, balcony seats that overlook the shore. “It feels like being back home, minus all the shitty things.” He’s resting his head on his hand, eyes fixed on the ocean glazed by unshed tears he’s been holding in for a long time. Too long.

“Home is where you make it. For now, this can be home for you Lance, no bad memories, just completely new and clean walls for you to decorate however you want.”

“Eh… I kinda miss it sometimes.” Keith clearly didn’t know what he meant, but smiles nonetheless. “The chaos of being a middle child, I mean. Even being forgotten at times. But mostly the constant noise and life in the house, siblings are a messy handful.”

“Why don’t you go back over the holidays?” Lance’s head snaps to meet Keith’s gaze, not knowing whether or not to answer truthfully. Keith always says a truth for a truth, a lie for a lie. “My dad was too angry sometimes, so my mom kicked him out and now the house lost its spirit. Half of us moved out by now, I can stay at Altea, the Garrison dorms are more spacious than my room, I don’t have to face my mom’s disappointment. I just don’t have a lot to go back to, I guess”

“What about your little sisters?”

“They’re not so little anymore, they basically take care of themselves now anyways. Plus, I talk to them a lot.”

Keith doesn’t ever know how to handle emotional talks, especially when there’s not a lot of room for advice, so he just smiles a bit more, tight lipped and warm eyed like in this moment he understands anything that Lance could ever say. And he probably would. 

“Do you want to order dessert for dinner?” But Lance looks unsure, immediately back to his detached demeanor. Keith’s hand is open on the table, palm facing up, a silent invitation, so he takes it.

“Yeah. But I still only want fruit.” 

“That’s fine, fruit is great.”

  
  
  
  


“Take your shoes off if you’re stepping on the sand, Lance!”

“But then my feet will get dirty and itchy! I can just balance on this and not get dirty, it’s fine.”

“You’ll fall” he deadpans. Still, his arm is outstretched, just in case.

“Catch me if I fall, oh Romeo!” He’s overdramatic, doing a caricature like walk on the thin a little over a metre high ledge, arms swaying up and down, only fake wobbly. 

“You can’t quote Shakespeare without quoting Shakespeare, Lance.”

“But I just did.” and he smiles a wide smile. Wider than all of his smiles in a long time.

So, naturally, Keith smiles back.

“I’m calling Shiro so we can go back to Coran’s. It’s late and I’m tired. I don’t wanna be left behind.”

“They would never!”

“You know they would.”

“No, they love us too much. Even you and your emo bullshit!” So, naturally, Keith punches Lance’s leg, that happens to be the body part at his arm level, and he stumbles to the grass filled path to his left side.

“Shut up, you love it.”

“Never said I didn’t.”

“C’mon, let’s go. I’m tired and cold!”

“Such a drama queen. I’m shocked, Keiht!”

“Oh look who’s talking!”

“You love it though!”

Keith then smirks, cheeky response on the tip of his tongue. “Never said I didn’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it, I promise I won't take three weeks to post chapter 4, I just don't feel confident enough in my writing to finish things I'm happy with, but I'm getting ther! Anyways, thanks for reading this shit, ILY, don't forget to leave me some kudos <3


	4. some things are meant to be secret and not to be heard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so it's been almost four months, is anyone gonna read this? maybe not but you know i finished the chapter, kinda, so i might as well post it

As it turns out, yes they very much would leave the pair of kings behind. Hop on in two different taxis, so that everybody could fit, semi intoxicated by the chilly night sky that looked a blue so deep it was hard to even tell it apart from black, but at the same time so painfully obvious it seemed almost ridiculous to confuse them in the first place. It’s the stars, really, that make it brighter than ever, something hard to see at the Garrison building. Not that they ever spent much time there anyways, having a rather keen interest for secret rendezvous late at night for no particular reason other than feeling like they are the ones in control. 

“I can’t believe them! How could they leave us behind when I’m the life of the party!” Lance, with his hands flailing about the air, sat on the sidewalk directly under a lamppost, yellow light washing over his face in a way Keith thought only Lance’s face could ever get away with, now sporting a sweatshirt that they bought when he got too cold to feel pleasant, is quite frankly feeling betrayed. Because, despite acknowledging fully the fact that they ditched their friends for a private and rather intimate night alone, although he considers Keith the closest thing to a best friend, he couldn’t help but feel unwanted, abandoned. 

So, at exactly 10:47 pm, cold and moderately tired, all Lance wanted was to go home and cry, actually really cry. But he couldn’t possibly go all the way back to institute, safely under the space themed covers of his bed, stare at the walls of his bedroom, get lost in the different designs that were painted by him and Pidge a little over six months ago, a sign of defiance against the Garrison Building rules, he couldn’t go back to his room, at his parents house, the glow in the dark stars of his ceiling have been there for 17 years, head buried in 3 pillows.

Especially, he couldn’t cry today because Keith was going to be there all night, next to him, always present. He couldn’t cry in bed because they’d share that, and Keith had paid for his sweatshirt so he couldn’t ever possibly stain it, or sneak to the bathroom at night because Keith would question it. And he’s grateful for him, his presence, his ever so comforting requirements, to the point where it keeps his mind quiet for a large portion of the day, and he knows it’s not a good way of dealing with his shit, but right now it’s the only thing he’s got.

He still wants to cry, though.

“Yes, mister life of the party. What a betrayal.” But everything Keith says is sarcastic now, while they wait for the only taxi company in the city to arrive. “I don’t blame them, you know. We took our time.”

“Surely Hunk and Pidge are getting drunk without us while Allura and Shiro pretend not to notice! No consideration, no nothing. They don’t even like us!”

“Stop being a drama queen, we’ll be there soon enough and you can get wasted all you want. In the meantime, make things better for both of us and stop complaining.”

Lance can’t believe his ears, how can Keith, his best bud, side with those traitors? How is it fair that they were left by themselves in a foreign place without a way to get back? Did nobody think about the fact that it’s their first night there?

“Maybe it’s not a big deal to you but I sure am feeling like absolute cow shit!” He bursts out. He didn’t mean to do it, although he was thinking it. Words just escape him sometimes, uncontrolled and all too true. He thinks he’d be hurt if those were directed at him.

But Keith isn’t hurt, of course not. Keith sits down closer to him than he was before and rests his forehead on Lance’s shoulder, because he’s tired and a bit upset too. Maybe he’s emotionally exhausted, almost as much as his best friend is, or maybe it’s the physical effects of the long day taking over him, but it still makes hearts flutter, the slight held back exhale ruffling the fabric of the sweater just the tiniest bit.

“We love you, Lance. We really do.” Keith knows Lance won’t believe him, he knows he meant to use a different pronoun but lacked the courage. Or maybe his rain was too logical to let him take that risk, maybe he’s dodging a bullet. His hands twitch to hold onto something, so he holds Lance’s clothes with the tips of his fingers. “It’s heartbreaking that you don’t see how much you’re worth, how much you mean to people.”

“Keith, don’t do this…”

“Do what, Lance? What am I doing?”

“This… thing. Where you just-” but he can’t bring himself to finish.

It’s a spur of the moment decision, to pull the blue eyed boy into a very tight hug, to let go of words. And he knows, has known for a while, how perfect being inside those arms feel, except they’ve never gotten to this point of intimacy until now, except the one time where they had a big heart to heart after a particularly tragic night. Except it never happens because before he can take the extra step, a very bright yellow loud car stops on the street. The taxi.

“C’mon, Keith. The cab is here.” Lance’s hands come up to push his friend’s head off of him, gentle, caring, a bit too much if he’s being honest, voice not above a soft spoken confession.

They don’t talk for the remaining ride, only staying in each other’s space as much as possibly, as if it were second nature. And, frankly, it just might be. Atoms once part of the same star desperate to get together again, as close as possible. But as soon as they step into the big property the atmosphere that surrounded the two boys is gone. Lance slips into his big and tough persona while Keith decides to make himself as unaware as possible.

Coran informs the newest arrivals that Shiro and Allura are sound asleep (wink) and that he was also heading to bed (wink wink), that their friends were waiting for them outside with some totally legal and not at all suspicious treats (wink wink wink).

And, for better or worse, the four of them are absolutely shitfaced before the new day has a chance to turn two hours old. Pidge goes on and on and on about her theory about soulmates, how she’d witnessed people who had a bond so deep they must have had their sciency version of destiny written in history, in the cosmos, however that might work, that she only believed something so outrageous because she’d witnessed it.

And Hunk? Hunk has fallen in love. Love at first sight, too. With that girl from the town centre stands, Shay. Head over heels, would hang up the moon with his own two hands for her. 

But Lance is internally moping, head spinning with the fact he’d been so unapologetically true to what he wanted today. Well, partially. How he’d eaten a full meal for the first time in 78 hours, how his hair tie had remained untouched, scratches and cuts given time to heal. But his mind is still bearing open wounds he doesn’t know how to close. And his heart is worn on his sleeve, on a bracelet he hasn’t taken off in 8 months keeping it from slipping off straight onto the floor, to be stomped on and mercilessly broken.

“I’m not wrong about this, Hunk! Yes they are in love, anyone with a functioning set of eyes can see that and the blind can probably sense it in the air, with their extra good other senses!” Pidge, still talking about her ‘soulmates’ project, the one she wants to bring together by a deadline she won’t bother sharing, just short of shouts at her best friend.

“Pidge, even if you’re right, there’s a thick layer of denial keeping it from happening, so i hope your deadline is damn long cause you’re gonna be waiting a while!” Hunk, quite frankly, is tired. Of his friends talking over his spinning head, of trying to comprehend and maintain a streamline of coherent thoughts, of thinking in general. Not for a long time, just for tonight, he wants to turn it off for a bit and go away to his dreamland where he’s bouncing on mushroom shaped clouds and eating infinite cotton candy for at least five hours. So, he retires himself from his position as helpful listener, just for a couple of hours.

Pidge is next to go, smirk bright on her face as she said goodbye to the remaining duo, the pair of kings sat on the pools edge, Keith sat on a criss cross position, Lance with his left leg swinging in the water, a tad too close and with eyes too glossy for simple friends. 

The night is in full swing, there are two glasses repeatedly filled to the brim with a rather fun, moderately alcoholic drink. One red, one blue, the glasses are shared. They didn’t start like that, oh no, but curious tongues want to taste different flavours, especially the ones that look good, feel good, so they just shared a bit. A sip here, two there, and suddenly they’re sitting between them, switching sides every so often until the am made the two boys more intoxicated than anything else ever could.

“If I had to choose a feeling to have forever, I would choose this one.” Keith, once again, has his head on Lance’s shoulder, hands dangerously close to the other boy’s ones, yearning to be brought together.

“What is it?”

“Elation.”

“Is that a word?”

“I have no idea.”

Lance giggles at that, a bright yet quiet full blown giggle high pitched and genuinely happy. His hands find their way across the floor, long cold fingers grazing warmer ones, calloused from his musical ability.

“There’s one thing that would make me quite elated too.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, it’s more of an action than a thing, per se. I’m too scared to do it.”

The two glasses are quickly moved so Keith can move closer to Lance, and when lilac eyes meet blue eyes, so much emotion colliding, he can finally do the thing he has been yearning to for the past few hours and suddenly they’re locked in a tight, heartfelt embrace.

Hearts beating against each other, just as fast, chaotic, fervent. There’s passion in the tight clutch, blinding white hot passion.

“Nothing should ever make you afraid.”

“Why not?”

“Cause you’re the motherfucking king of the world, aren’t you?”

“No, you are.”

“We are.”

“Yeah, we are.”

They stay pressed together, holding onto each other like a lifeline, for what feels like hours but also no longer than a few short minutes, too short. It’s forever, but forever doesn’t ever last enough to be satisfactory. 

Somewhere along the way there’s a tiny, shy, peck. 

On the neck. 

Answered with a nuzzle, equally as affectionate. And silly big smiles, wider than cheshire’s mean cunning grin. 

It’s perfect but it’s tragically doomed to end, eventually.

It’s when they stumble into their room, change into each other’s pajamas instead of their own, by mistake, yes, a simple mishap, when they fall into bed together, limbs tangled and connected as much as possible, when their eyes slip shut almost immediately, that it breaks, bringing about a heavy atmosphere.

Suddenly, their closed eyes are nothing but a comfort blanket of darkness, because what you can’t see, can’t hurt you. Right?

Right?

“Keith?”

“Lance.”

“What’s your biggest fear?”

And just what the fuck is Keith supposed to say to THAT? He could be honest about it, bare his heart like he’d done a couple times before to the other boy. He could, yes but is he brave enough to do it?

“I think…” Maybe he should tell the truth. “ I think it’s feeling lonely forever.” 

It’s partially true.

But, as Shiro made a point to remind him quite often, every half truth is a half lie.

“So you feel lonely now?”

“No, I’m not lonely right now,” and he wasn’t, not when the most perfect company was occupying a perfect spot between his arms, legs and mind “but I’m scared I will someday and that it will last forever.”

When the company is gone, that is. When he’s far away from his only source of comfort, his home.

It’s a terrible thought, a terrible feeling, this dependency. It’s too late to change it now, when his every waking moment is spent thinking about Lance; Lance’s hands, that are way too soft to be a boy’s (but then again, he was taught a lot of things that are supposedly boyish that he would never do and way too many girly things he longed for); Lance’s eyes, that are a very specific shade of deep blue, not quite dark, just deep (and Keith thinks that if he were tiny for a day and could jump into them, he could swim to the bottom of his ocean and find all the secrets of his soul); Lance’s legs, tan and long, from his beach roots, from all the dancing he did, but most concerningly from all the ways he was slowly, very quietly, killing himself.

_ That _ he’s truly afraid of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if things go south, till next year :)


End file.
